Selena’s pulse pounded in her ears as she pushed herself to her feet, her limbs still trembling from the fall. The air in the throne room was thick—too thick, as though the very shadows pressed down on her chest, making it hard to breathe.
The figure standing beside the throne tilted its head, watching her with those eerie, silver eyes. It was her and yet… not. This was no mere reflection. It had weight, presence—an unsettling stillness that sent a chill through her veins.
“Welcome home, Selena.” The voice was hers but distorted, a silk-draped whisper that curled around her like chains.
Selena took a step back, her throat tightening. “I don’t belong here.”
The doppelgänger smiled, dark amusement flickering across its face. “Don’t you?” It gestured to the throne, to the abyssal markings
